The only time Chris could fly anywhere was if Acheron himself, the leader of the Dark-Hunters, came and picked him up and kept him within his eyesight the entire time. Every member of the Squires’ Council understood that Chris was Wulf’s last blood link to his brother. As such, he was guarded more zealously than a national treasure.
He felt like such an alien species, he wished he could find someplace where he wouldn’t be a complete freak.
But it was impossible. There was no escaping his destiny.
No escaping what he was…
The last heir.
Without Chris and his children, Wulf would be alone for eternity because only a human born of Wulf’s blood could ever remember him.
The only problem with that was finding a mother for those kids, and no one wanted to volunteer.
His ears stil rang with Belinda’s rejection from ten minutes ago.
“Go out with you? Pah-lease. Call me when you grow up and learn to dress right.” Grinding his teeth, he tried not to think about her harsh words. He’d put on his best khaki pants and navy sweater just to ask her out. But he knew he wasn’t suave or cool.
He had the social graces of an idiot. The average face of the boy next door and the confidence of a snail.
God, he was pathetic.
Chris paused at the door of his classroom to see the two male Theti Squires trailing him at a “discreet” distance. In their mid-thirties, both of them were over six feet tal , with dark hair and stern faces. Assigned to him by the Squires’ Council, their sole duty was to watch over him and make sure nothing happened to him until he spawned enough kids to make Wulf happy.
Not that there was any big threat during the daylight. On rare occasions a Doulos—human servants for the Apol ites—might attack a Squire, but those were so rare these days as to be worthy of national news coverage.
At night, Chris was forbidden to leave the property unless he was on a date. Which seemed impossible after his one-and-only girlfriend had dumped him.
He sighed at the prospect of trying to find someone else to go out with him. Why would they when they would have to be subjected to blood tests and physicals?
He groaned under his breath.
While he was in class, the Thetis would take up stations outside the door, thus guaranteeing Chris’s freak status even more than his solitary nature.
And who could blame him for being solitary? Jeez, he’d grown up in a house where he wasn’t al owed to run in case he hurt himself. If he ever got a cold of any sort, the Squires’ Council cal ed in specialists from the Mayo Clinic to treat him. What few children his father had imported to play with him from other Squire families had been given strict orders that they were never to touch him, or make him angry, or do anything to make Wulf angry at them.
So his “friends” would come over, sit and watch television with him. They seldom spoke for fear of getting into trouble and no one dared to even bring a present or share so much as a potato chip. Everything had to be thoroughly searched and detoxed before Chris was al owed to play with it. After al , one little germ and he might become sterile or, God forbid, die.
The burden of civilization was upon him, or more to the point, the burden of Wulf’s lineage was upon him.
The only real friend Chris had in his life was Nick Gautier, a Squire recruit he’d met online a couple of years ago. Too new to their world to understand Chris’s gilded status, Nick had treated him like a human being and the Cajun agreed that Chris’s life seriously sucked in spite of the benefits that came along with it.
Hel , the only reason he’d been able to convince Wulf to let him go to col ege, instead of hiring professors to come to the house and teach him, was the fact that here he might actual y meet an eligible ovary donor.
Wulf had been giddy at the prospect and interrogated him every night on whether or not he met a new woman.
More to the point, had he scored with her?
Sighing
J.A. Konrath, Bernard Schaffer